Sonrisa
by UsagiChan22
Summary: Antonio Fernandez Carriedo is a struggling magazine writer trying to get his career off the ground. Can a feisty girl from a local pizzeria help him find inspiration, or will he be forced to continue to wrestle his demons alone? Fem!Lovino. AU.
1. It's Okay Until The Computer Talks Back

**A/N – Alrighty everybody. For all of you who have read the previous version of this story, WELCOME BACK! I took this story down when I decided to stop using my fanfiction account, but I hate leaving unfinished stories on my laptop. So, I decided to continue writing this story with a few minor changes. **

**1.) I will be using fem!Lovino because I am a girl, so when I have to go into her POV it will be easier to get a handle on her character.**

**2.) I really want to see if I can successfully write with a genflipped character.**

**My writing style has also changed and developed since I last worked on this story, so if you notice a shift in style halfway through the piece, I am sorry. Now for those of you who DIDN'T follow the original story, ignore everything above and enjoy~!**

**Disclaimer: I DIDN'T DO IT…oh yeah, Hetalia is not mine either…hehe?**

**oOoOo~Sonrisa~oOoOo**

_Smile, though your heart is aching_

_Smile, even though it's breaking_

_When there are clouds in the sky_

_You'll get by…_

***~oOoOo~***

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo walked down the grey hall of the office building; large coffee in one hand, papers fresh off the printer in the other, and mind preoccupied. He was thinking of the blank computer screen back at his house, waiting to be filled with the words of what he hoped would be his first published novel.

You see, Antonio was a man with a plan. He was going to continue at this dead end job for a while, bide his time waiting and writing, then shock the public by publishing the greatest book the world had ever seen! Dynamic characters, thrilling romance, action adventure!

He sighed. You see, Antonio was a man with a problem…

A _big_ problem. To have a book, you must have a plot. To develop a plot, you must have inspiration, and Antonio was about as short on inspiration as he was on sleep. He sighed, lifting his cup up to take a sip.

"Tonio!" An overly loud voice assaulted his left eardrum. The sudden presence of his best friend (combined with a hearty slap on the back) sent coffee spilling down his front.

"Hola, Gilbert! Ahaha~!" he said in his slight Spanish accent, absently wiping up the coffee with the papers in his hand. His head was pounding like it was filled with a thousand little vindictive construction workers who were all having a really, _really_ bad day. He wondered how Gilbert was so cheery (as well as how Francis was faring) after their little get together the previous night. He swore it was the last week night adventure he would let those two drag him on….until next week….

He felt the nerves in his head scream as he contorted his muscles into the signature bright smile that was expected of him and asked, "What's up, mi amigo?"

"You're reviewing the food stands at that local arts and crafts fair today right?" he asked, red eyes alight with excitement.

_Dios mio_, he'd forgotten about that! He'd been given the assignment to cover the fair for his column, _The Local Flavor_, last night over the telephone during the chaos, "Yeah, why?"

"Great! Consider yourself lucky! I'm going to grace you with my awesome presence!" he replied, flinging an arm around the other's shoulder.

A look crossed the fair-haired man's face, like he was listening to something in the distance, and he quickly looked around.

"Oh! Gotta go! Here comes Elizaveta! Lizzie!" he shouted, just as the girl rounded the corner.

_I swear he has a sixth sense when it comes to her._ Antonio thought as the albino looked back at him and waved one last time.

Antonio flashed a dazzling smile and gave him thumbs up, but as soon as his friend was out of sight, the grin slipped away. When people pictured Antonio Carriedo, they saw a happy-go-lucky guy, always smiling, and he was fine with that. He _wanted _that. More then anything he wished that the truth matched their perception. What he would never admit was that it was just a pretense. Inside he didn't feel like smiling at all, in fact, he felt quite the opposite.

It wasn't always this way. At one time, his dazzling grins were full of life and passion, but that slowly went away as he tried, and failed, to get his writing career off the ground. He was stuck writing for the local food section of an obscure magazine. Fortunately, no on really knew him well enough to notice the difference.

_Fortunately, _he chuckled grimly, _its funny when having no one who understands you constitutes a "fortunately"._

He finally reached his cubicle and sat down, flicking on his computer. He could at least get some work done. He wasn't due at the fair for…

"Ah!" Antonio gathered his notebook, pen, and tape recorder, and ran off to find Gilbert.

He was due at the fair fifteen minutes ago!

***~oOoOo~***

The fair was absolutely gorgeous. People milled about the streets, looking at the vendor's wares and haggling prices. By the flower display, people literally stopped to smell the roses. All around him he heard jokes and laughter and the whole fair smelled of acrylics, cooking food, and an earthy undercurrent of fresh spring. Blending in with the enthusiastic crowd, Antonio kept a sunny smile on, laughing his mesmerizing laugh as he interviewed pedestrians and the people manning the various food stalls, jotting down general information about the scene as he went.

He and Gilbert stopped at random stalls, seeing what the show had to offer as Antonio sampled the foods and made notes on the stalls that really stood out. Gilbert was the only one to purchase anything, however. He bought a rather large white flower from the flower display, claiming that, "This will be better than the one she already has!"

Antonio assumed it was for that Hungarian girl named Elizaveta that Gil had become incredibly fond of. Sadly, it seemed that the girl's frying pan had become incredibly fond of his face.

The general atmosphere of the event made it easy for Antonio to grin as brightly as ever, but the smile faded instantly as he got out of his car and walked towards his house.

It was a decent sized white structure when one considered the salary he had to work with. The windows were framed by vibrant red shutters and a scarlet door stood on ceremony to welcome in visitors and the occupant of the house alike. Splashes of brilliantly colored flowers overflowed in window boxes, and you could just see a large crop of tomato plants creeping around the wall from the back yard.

Despite the happy feeling his home gave out, its warmth failed to reach him as he draped his coat over the arm of the sofa (the coat rack was more of a decoration) and plopped down next to it.

"And how was your day, Enrique?" he asked, looking at the tank that contained his pet turtle. They were the only two who lived in the house. A bachelor pad for a young man and his turtle. Lots of people would say he was crazy, but they didn't know Enrique like Antonio did. After all, a turtle is a man's best friend.

Kicking off his shoes, Antonio flipped through his several television stations. Nothing was on. So he walked too the kitchen and grabbed a fresh tomato from the fridge for a snack. And after that he made some coffee. And after that he tended his tomato plants. And then he took a shower, decided to go for a jog (but as soon as he stepped outside, he determined that he was much too lazy for that), then took another shower (he was still sweaty from all that jogging), then practiced his guitar for about a half an hour. By six o' clock he decided that he could procrastinate no longer. Sighing, he set down the instrument and headed to his computer. With a jab of the button, the monitor roared to life.

_Now,_ he thought, _just relax and write…_

Antonio sat there, fingers poised over the keyboard for what seemed like an eternity. The cursor just stayed in its place on the page, blinking as if taunting him. This was how he spent his evenings, sitting at the computer at war with the empty page.

_Alright, I can do this. This is fine. Start writing something and the rest will come to you. _He thought to calm himself.

_You can't do it!_ The cursor spat back at him, blinking in all its arrogance.

_Yes, I can, _he responded with a sigh, like he was used to repeating this on a regular basis.

_No, I don't think so. Nothing you write will ever be good enough. Who would want to read it? I most certainly wouldn't._

_Well, how will I ever know if my writing is substandard if I never write anything to begin with? Now leave me alone!_

Luckily, a phone call interrupted his…conversation.

Shaking his head, he answered the phone in his signature chipper tone, "Hola!"

"Hello, Mr. Carriedo," the voice of his boss, Mr. Wang, spoke at the other end, "I hope you don't mind, but I have another assignment for you."

"No, I don't mind at all. What is it?"

"There's a new pizza place opening downtown. Their grand opening is tomorrow and I want you to cover it. I apologize that this is so last minute."

"No problem!" he replied, pleased that his new assignment involved pizza. Where there was pizza, there were tomatoes, and Antonio loved his tomatoes.

"What's the name?" he asked.

"La Pizzeria Vargas."

**A/N – So after some extensive editing, I deem this chapter acceptable for publishing! I hope you enjoyed this! I'm going to try my best to keep everyone in character, but advice is ALWAYS welcome. As always, I would loves reviews on my writing. Hearing from you helps me improve my stories! Thanks!**

**Oh, and for those of you who don't know, _Sonrisa_ means Smile in Spanish!**


	2. Come Again Soon!

**A/N – Okay, so here's chapter two, edited and ready to go! I hope you enjoy!**

**Reviews make Antonio's smile come back faster! XD**

**WARNINGS: Lovina makes her grand entrance in this chapter, so there will be some swearing (however, they will only be light swears for the sake of her character. I don't like using really nasty words. :P). Well, you have been warned!**

***~oOo~Sonrisa~Chapter Two~oOo~***

Antonio woke at 10:30 the next day, preferring to sleep as late as possible before heading to the pizzeria. Sometime during the night his headache had gone away and the world decided to be kind and stop spinning around in unusual ways.

Walking into the kitchen, he wiped the sleep from his eyes and put coffee on to brew. He decided to skip on breakfast, saving all his room for the pizzeria he'd be reviewing in just a little while.

He was glad that he was given an assignment on a Saturday. It saved him from working on his novel, if only for a day. And besides, who wouldn't want to get paid to go to a pizza shop?

About and hour later he was ready to walk out the door, running through a final checklist.

_Notebook, recorder, wallet, keys…what else? I guess I'm ready!_

He glanced at his hair in the hall mirror. It was unbrushed and still slightly damp from his morning shower. Satisfied with its messy style and that fact that it would dry on the ride, he walked out the door.

***~oOoOo~***

A glance at his own scribbled handwriting on the back of a napkin told him that the pizzeria was located at 34 Main Street.

"I think this is it," he said to himself, double-checking the address. Antonio found himself in front of a small building, its exterior plastered and painted to look like adobe. The tiny business was squished between the post office and local bank, but it was flooded with customers. The building had a quaint, Tuscan feel to it; with swirling red letters above the door reading _**La Pizzeria Vargas**_. Colorful balloons were tied anywhere and everywhere they could be, drawing in people from the street.

Antonio pushed open the front door, causing a tiny bell to ring. The restaurant's décor carried on seamlessly inside. A colorful mosaic design adorned the floor, flowers and vines of grapes and exotic leaves twisted into a pattern and danced below the customer's feet. Pictures depicting the beauty of Italy hung in various places on the walls and a small, triangular stage stood kitty corner in the far end of the restaurant supporting a guitarist who discreetly set the mood with light and airy melodies as backdrop to the diner's conversations.

"Idiota," a harsh voice called in Italian as Antonio was making a mental note of the shop's atmosphere to reference in the article, "Are you purposely blocking the door or are you just too stupid to move?"

The Spaniard turned to see an angry face scowling venomously in his direction. It was a woman who looked to be about Antonio's age, average height with hazel eyes that seemed very used to glaring daggers at all who passed. She had brown hair and lightly tan skin, though not as dark as Antonio's. He had to admit that this woman wouldn't be hard to look at if she wasn't currently trying to kill him with her eyes alone…

"Hey!" a voice chimed in from behind him, "move!"

"Ah!" exclaimed Antonio, jumping out of the way. An irritated couple walked in from behind, shooting glares his way. If looks could kill, Antonio would have been dead several times over by now at the hands of a very angry Italian and several of the angry, waiting customers that filed in after the initial couple.

"_Lo siento!_" he apologized, "My name's Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and I'm with the magazine _Local HAPpenings_(1.). I write a food column, _The Local Flavor,_ perhaps you've heard of me." He extended his hand to be shaken and smiled his winning interviewer smile ear to ear. The other looked at his hand as if she would rather swallow one 100 needles than touch it. That brief encounter was all it took for Lovina to form a quick judgment on this sketchy reporter character.

He was too damn happy to be working on a Saturday.

Which led to conclusion two; he's the fakest thing since reality television.

She did not like this guy and did not find him attractive at all. Nope. Nuh-uh.

Satisfied with her excellent split second character analysis, she responded, "I don't give a damn what your name is and I definitely don't want any reporters snooping around."

Antonio frowned, "I wasn't snooping, and you shouldn't swear. It's so uncute." Really, where were the honest values of customer service these days?

"Who said I was cute, _bastardo_? Now get out before I-" Her threat was cut off by a bubbly woman bouncing up next to him.

"Lovina!" she exclaimed in a pout, poking her frowning sister in the ribs, receiving a (totally dignified) squeak from the other, "You can't treat a customer like that!"

She turned to Antonio, "I'm sorry about my sister Mr.-"

"Carriedo," he replied, "but you can call me Antonio."

"He's not a customer, Feliciana, he's a reporter." Lovina spat.

Feliciana's eyes lit up, "A reporter?" she squealed, "writing an article on our pizzeria?"

Antonio nodded, "I'm a food critic with a local magazine."

Feliciana could barely contain her excitement. Antonio found it hard to believe that the two were sisters. Physically, it was easy to see the resemblance. Though Feliciana was shorter and had redder hair, they shared the same sparkling hazel eyes and they both seemed to have an errant curl that flopped this way and that with a will of its own. However, could this upbeat person really be so closely related to her grumpy counterpart?

"No, no, no," said Lovina, attempting to squash her sister's ever-flowing fountain of enthusiasm by bopping her on the head, "I already told the bastard to leave."

"Leave?" she repeated, horrified, "No! Lovina, let him stay. Think how good it will be for business if he writes the article! Let him interview you, please?" Feliciana's eyes went big and her lower lip trembled.

"Why don't you do the interview? You're better with people then I am" Lovina groaned. Antonio sensed no small amount of resentment in the girl's admittance to her sister's social superiority.

"Because I'm busy, ve~!" she said. Feliciana turned on the puppy-dog eyes, and Lovina knew she had lost, for who can really say no to something like that?

"Fine." Lovina relented.

"Hooray!" Feli shouted, "You're the best, Lovi! I'm going to go make Mr. Carriedo our best dish, okay~?" And with that she skipped off to the kitchen.

With a disdainful look at the kitchen door, she said, "Come on_, bastardo_, let's go to that empty table over there. I swear, you better make this interview pretty damn quick!"

They sat down at a polished wood table in an awkward silence. Lovina was glaring daggers down at her shoes. The man sitting across from her was certainly not worth looking at. Nope. No way in hell she thought that reporter was attractive.

Antonio decided just to dive in with the questions. Who knows? Maybe Lovina would loosen up!

"So Lovi, you and your sister run the restaurant and do some of the cooking? That's pretty impressive." He started, figuring a compliment was a sure-fire ice breaker.

"Don't call me that," the other said, still scowling so hard at her shoes that Antonio seriously wondered if she would burn a hole in the leather. So much for loosening up.

"Don't call you what?" he inquired.

"Lovi, _idiota_." She said, now turning the full unpleasantness of her expression on Antonio. "Don't call me Lovi. It's so cute is makes me want to puke."

"Aw!" he complained, "Lovi _is_ cute! It fits you!" Okay, he conceded to himself, that might have been taking it a bit too far. Well, no going back now.

A fiery blush spread over her cheeks. "I told you, I'm not cute, dammit."

"Beg to differ," he said, grinning, "Even more so when you blush~! You look just like a tomato~! But anyway, you cook as well?" He continued with the previous question.

"I try to stay away from the kitchen if I can. N-not that I'm no good or anything, I just don't want to do the extra work!" She added when Antonio raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Besides," she continued, "Everyone seems to like Feli's cooking better anyway." Antonio could feel the mood darkening and decided to try a different approach.

"So Lovi, what inspired you and your sister to open up a pizza shop?" he asked, opening to a blank page in his notebook.

Lovina looked up, surprised by the abrupt change in question. Surprise gave way to annoyance and she mumbled the answer, "Our grandfather. He taught us to cook and always wanted to open a restaurant with us when we were old enough. He died two years ago."

Antonio looked on sympathetically, "I'm so sorry," he said.

"Yeah, yeah. If you really wanted me to feel better you'd leave me the hell alone," the other replied, "keep it moving. I don't have the whole damn day."

Antonio moved to jot down a few notes in his book, but found his hand empty.

_That's what I forgot!_

Looking at Lovina, he grinned sheepishly, "Ahaha~! May I borrow a pen?"

Lovina rolled her eyes and stalked over to grab a pen from the kitchen's counter. She looked back at the reporter, who smiled and waved dumbly in response.

_This is going to be one long interview, _she thought.

***~oOoOo~***

By the time the interview was over and the food consumed, Antonio had managed to annoy Lovina to the point where the poor girl had attempted to headdesk into unconsciousness. Unfortunately for her, Antonio's strong arms held her back, saying that 'a dead Lovi was so uncute~!'

Feli skipped out of the kitchen in time to give Antonio a hearty handshake and invite him to come back soon (upon hearing this invitation, Lovina resumed her process of inflicting head trauma upon her person)

Antonio walked out of the shop, ready to let his phony grin fall away, as he did after every tiring interview. As he let his guard down, though, a tiny smile remained, like a fragment of a good dream. He had thoroughly enjoyed his interview with Lovina. Even though he was bombarded with curse words from the moody girl, he liked her. She clearly didn't believe he was what he appeared to be. She neither liked nor accepted his smiling mask, and Antonio found it refreshing in the most bizarre way. He stepped into his car, deciding that he was definitely going to take Feli up on her offer to come back soon.

**A/N – Ladies and gentleman, I give you Lovi! ^-^ I was really happy with how this chapter came out. Let me know how I did with Antonio and Lovina's relationship/interaction. **

**Thank you to HoneyTwilight for the name of the magazine. Get it? HAPpenings. (_H_etalia _A_xis _P_owers)**


End file.
